


Way Down We Go

by charbax



Series: Space Opera AU [1]
Category: Paladins: Champions Of The Realm (Video Game)
Genre: AU, Anal Sex, Choking, Death Threats, M/M, OR IS IT, One Night Stand, Role-Play kink, Threats of Violence, acquaintances to enemies to lovers, alcohol cw, but in the non-kinky way, look despite the tags its PWP. its smut. no one dies i promise.
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-11
Updated: 2018-05-11
Packaged: 2019-05-05 03:16:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,011
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14608074
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/charbax/pseuds/charbax
Summary: V1-ktor lives for the simple things: booze, hookups, and guns. But what seemed to be a simple date quickly turns into the strangest set of circumstances he's ever been in. A space opera AU inspired from the space skins.





	Way Down We Go

It’s become a tradition of sorts. Whenever they get a new job on a new planet, they check out the most popular bar. Not only was it was a great hub for information, it was also great for picking up dates. Well, normally it would be, but so far on this backwater of a planet, the rare life forms here were the locals (all which were not any of their types…or within five mutations of their species for V1-ktor and Nova, or twenty for L-exo), and the merchants passing by for refuelling, and thus, not very receptive to chatting up.

Earlier, the group’s noises filled the bar with some semblance of life, but L-exo and Nova decided to cut their losses and prepare for the job, leaving V1-ktor with only the tinny jukebox for company. He might actually join them after one more drink, seeing as he was doing nothing but nurse his glass. At least the alcohol was acceptable, V1-ktor thought, taking another swig.

His ears perked up at the sound of the front door swinging open, then shut, his head turning to the source. The newcomer headed straight for the bar with sure steps, already catching V1-ktor’s interest. They sat down right next to him. V1-ktor risked a glance.

His hood was down, revealing braided hair and a metal mask that covered the bottom part of his face, and eyes that glowed an artificial orange, like warning lights of a ship’s emergency system. Optic implants? A weird choice, seeing how bright they shone. Still, it was pretty cool to see how the irises flicked over the bar’s interior. But more than that, the man looked exhausted and in need of a something stiff.

(and no, V1-ktor was not talking about his genitals. If that remained true or not depended on how the rest of the evening went.)

“Hey, can I buy you a drink?” V1-ktor said.

The stranger turned to him in surprise, glowing eyes meeting his own. V1-ktor’s mouth was very suddenly dry. Something warned inside him _danger, danger,_ yet like the hypnotic glow of an alarm beacon, he couldn’t look away. He was only broken out of his reverie when the stranger spoke. “…sure?”

V1-ktor signalled the bartender for two beers, turning back to the stranger. “So can I ask you what brings you around these parts?”

“Only if I can ask you if you go to bars dressed up like that.” The man shot back.

V1-ktor’s glanced down on his Athenian Mark II armour, then he let out a bark of laughter. “You’re wearing a cape, so you can’t judge.”

“Fair.” The other man acknowledged. When their drinks arrived, he pulled down his mouth cover and knocked back his glass. V1-ktor watched the elegant bob of his adam's apple, at the way he wiped his scarred mouth with the back of his hand, then quickly took a sip to disguise his staring. “Thanks.” The man said. “If you’re still wondering, I’m killing time before I fly off.”

V1-ktor grinned. “So a few hours, or enough time to see you later?”

“Why not now?”

“I actually gotta go to a job soon.” V1-ktor didn’t elaborate, and the other man didn’t ask further. Privately, V1-ktor was glad for the silent agreement. As boring as the job sounded in the comms mail, the employer emphasised absolute silence. At that point Nova demanded money for silence too, around 8000 credits. Their boss told her not to push it. V1-ktor added quickly, “But I’m not doing anything after that.”

The stranger was still staring him with those bright, synthetic eyes. V1-ktor had to swallow down some of his beer to avoid staring directly. Then, the stranger spoke,

“You’re not joking mate? You really want to spend time with me?”

V1-ktor nervously rubbed the back of his neck. “Yeah, because I’m-” The word got lodged in his throat. He tried again. “I happen to be-” He cleared his throat. Damn it, this was always the hardest part of getting dates.

“You can do it.” The man said, the barest hint of a smirk on his face. Flarg.

“Guys.” Was what V1-ktor settled with. It just wasn’t fair that in a town of mostly not-hot-aliens, there had to be one man with mesmerising optic implants and stupidly great braided hair and a real nice smile and a sense of humor waltz in just before V1-ktor had to go guard some stupid boxes.

Speaking of guarding, his wrist comm beeped. V1-ktor opened the message and sighed.

“Well, that’s my cue.” V1-ktor said, a touch mournfully. The stranger downed the last of his drink and stood.

“I better go too. Do some last minute refuelling before I leave.”

Just like that, V1-ktor’s mood plummeted. Oh. So it was a few hours after all. However, he felt fingers tapping away at his wrist comm, then the confirmation beep of a new contact.

“Give me a ring when you finish.” The stranger said. Bare lips brushed against V1-ktor’s cheek, before the stranger gave one last smile and left V1-ktor holding a palm to where the kiss, as if to hold onto the fleeting moment for longer.

Hot damn.

* * *

“Shipment. Three of the best sharpshooters in the galaxy, and they got us on shipment duty. Who do they think we are?” L-exo said.

“Shut your mouth.” Nova replied tersely. “I’d rather be watching paint dry on the wall than these crates, but money’s money. Especially around these parts.”

V1-ktor rolled his eyes behind his helmet and continued taking his gun apart, placing a part of it next to others on top of the crates they were ‘guarding’ – a generous word, since they were in the equivalent of a warehouse in one of the most backwater of planets he had ever seen. Which was why it was stranger still for three trained guns were needed for a job that a kid with a blaster could do.

It was wearing on all of them, L-exo especially. “I’d think I prefer stakeouts to this. At least I could shoot someone.”

In fact, it was so quiet that the water bottle sitting on one of the crate was looking especially good for drinking. V1-ktor twisted his helmet off and reached for it. The other two stared at him. "What?" He said. "Got something on my face-?"

_Bang!_

A bullet whizzed past V1-ktor’s ear and ricocheted off the wall behind him.

“Sniper!” He shouted. As one, the unit ducked behind cover – L-exo behind some crates, Nova to her barricade, and V1-ktor pressed himself against the wall.  There were no more shots, but none of them dared to peak over their covers.

“Nova,” V1-ktor whispered, lest he alert the sniper. “Any possible spots?”

“Windows are too high up for sniping outside the building. Didn’t hear anyone walking on the upper walkways. Means he might be in one of the office cubes.” She said. V1-ktor glanced over to his dismantled weapon and cursed.

“Cover me. I’m gonna pay our newcomer a ‘lil visit.”

He ducked from to the other wall just as L-exo popped back up and fired some shots to cover the sound of V1-ktor’s steps up the metal staircase. He flattened himself against the doorway when he counted six shots. He heard L-exo reloading his weapon, then the whine of Nova’s gun charging up. When she struck, he slipped inside into the dark hallway in between the echoes.

Before he could move further, there was the sound of a whistle, then crackling. V1-ktor backpedalled just in time to avoid a face full of flare lighting up the hallway. He snuffing it out with his foot, but it was as useless as letting it burn, because now the sniper knew he was here. Damn. The sniper was expecting him – in that case, he better not disappoint. V1-ktor tore off a grenade from his belt and threw it into the room where the flare flew from. There was a curse, the sound of crashing, then an explosion. While the smoke was still in the air V1-ktor stormed the room but was only greeted with an empty room. He scanned the room for a few moments longer, oblivious to the way the smoke behind him parted, like someone was moving through it.

Something fell over in the corner, catching V1-ktor’s attention. Then there was another sound, this time, of someone’s foot kicking away bullet casings. V1-ktor looked that way too. When the door creaked, he threw his hands up in exasperation.

“Only a coward hides! Show your ugly face already!”

Something collided with the side of his jaw, too similar to the butt of a pistol. He staggered from the force of it, grunting. His vision blurred. He righted himself just in time to see his attacker materialise in front of him. Stealth armour. Of course the sniper had a sneakier way of fighting (which seemed to be a thing with snipers in general actually, after witnessing Nova’s transporter in action).

He wasn’t given a moment to recover before he heard whine of a flashbang, then the inevitable bang. He brought up his arms in vain, and his vision was covered in brightness, causing V1-ktor to grunt the second time. But that didn’t mean he was entirely without weapons – if all else failed, he still had his fists and his body.

He trusted his gut and ran where he last saw his attacker. He crashed into something, sending them both to the floor. There was a faint wheeze from underneath him. His hands felt out for the collar, and then he reeled his fist back and punched. His knuckles struck something metallic the first time, then something like a jaw the second time. His opponent bucked and he felt scrabbling on face, his eyes watering from thumbs trying to dig their way in. V1-ktor redoubled his efforts by bracing his forearm against the other’s throat. His combined weight and gravity worked in his favour. The struggles grew weaker with every punch. When the other’s hands dropped, V1-ktor paused, panting heavily. Then his eyes widened.

"It's you!" He said.

Now that he wasn’t punching the hell out of that face, V1-ktor could look at it properly – there was a face mask that had been pushed from its place over the mouth, revealing a mouth curled with scars. V1-ktor’s eyes traced over the raised flesh, before moving up, past the small trickle of blood running from the nose, flicking up to see his enemy’s eyes glowing with a familiar artificial light. Something flipped inside his stomach as he stared longer into that glow.

The sniper - the man from the bar - smiled weakly up at him. "Hello there."

V1-ktor felt a stab of betrayal somewhere in his chest. “You shot me!” He blurted out.

“In my defence, I had my shot lined up _before_ you took off your helmet. Thought you were another grunt in that armour.”

That made sense, a little. But V1-ktor’s jaw throbbed. “You still pistol-whipped me into a new dimension _and_ flashed me.”

“First of all, wording.” The sniper said, grinning when V1-ktor’s face flushed. “Second of all, you threw a grenade at me.”

“Because you shot me first-” V1-ktor face-palmed with his free hand. “Okay, we’re going in circles. Why’re you after us?”

“Not me, specifically. Just someone who dislikes you enough to pay me to dislike you. But only on the clock though.”

“Who paid you?”

“I don’t know about you, but I’m a professional.” V1-ktor winced, feeling the sting. “And I don’t go dropping my employer’s details.”

“Not even if I kill you here?” A shame, a little voice in V1-ktor’s head said, and he’s inclined to agree with it.

“As I said, I’m a professional.” Then his mouth twisted into a sneer and damn it, why was it both infuriating and hot? “Besides, I think you don’t want me dead.”

Flarg. “Maybe not, but I got other ways to get the information outta you.” V1-ktor pressed down a little harder, enough to feel the rattle of breathing in the man’s chest, who was still _smiling_ like he was enjoying himself despite the circumstances (or because of them), and V1-ktor couldn’t decide whether he wanted to kill him or kiss him, damn it, damn it all!

His wrist comm flashed, and letters appeared on the screen.

 _Awaiting confirmation of sniper kill._ _\- Nova_

Synthetic irises eyed the sentence then returned to V1-ktor’s face. “You’d better go before they start wondering if you’re dead.” He looked decidedly smug again.

“…go to the motel nearest to the bar. It’s the only one around this dump. If you’re not there in 30 minutes, then I’ll just hunt you down and kill you, names or nothing.”

“Ok. I’ll bite. On one condition: you’re paying.”

V1-ktor nodded, and with that, released his hold. The sniper rolled to his knees, rubbing his face, before slipping the metal mask back to its place. He stumbled over to his sniper kit, slinging it onto his back, and made his way to the exit. “Don’t keep me waiting.” There was a buzz of stealth technology, and he was gone.

V1-ktor tilted his head to the ceiling and cursed. He hoped he made the right call.

* * *

The rest of the squad did not take the news well. He didn’t hope really, he’s been hanging around them too long, but still.

“So,” L-exo began, freely rubbing his temples without his helmet, now that the sniper was safely out of vicinity, at least, V1-ktor assumed. “Let me get this straight.”

V1-ktor coughed something suspiciously like ‘Not me’ under his breath.

“You’re ditching us to go bang some headhunter.” L-exo said bluntly. Nova’s angry gun cleaning sent in his direction told V1-ktor of her feelings on the matter.

“Lighten up fellas, I’m just gonna ask who was trying to kill us, not get into his pants-”

“Riiiight,” Nova spoke up, drawing out the word. “What I don’t understand is that after nearly getting shot by a sniper, you decided that the next best course of action was to sneak up on them, in their heavily fortified sniper nest, and get into a tussle with them, where you get both pistol-whipped and flashbanged. Next thing we know, you come crawling back, saying something about going to the motel for ‘interrogation’, even though you let the perp walk. Just say that you got a booty call and go. We’ll just go collect the reward while you ‘interrogate’, AKA, get into some kinky roleplay.”

“And don’t forget this, asshole.” L-exo tossed something in V1-ktor’s direction. When he caught it, he glared at L-exo.

“Screw you guys.” V1-ktor said as his parting words, then he stuffed the bottle of lube into his pocket, jammed his helmet on, and left through front, making sure to slam the door behind him.

He kept fuming as he made his way through the empty concrete streets, with only the planet’s night-cycle sound to keep him company. The worst part was that Nova and L-exo were right. Meeting up in a motel room with a guy who openly admitted to trying to kill them was a bad idea, and they were right to be exasperated/angry. Unfortunately, V1-ktor built this ship, he might as well crash and burn with it. Still, he kicked a rock, watching it scatter into the gutter. Flarg.

Shaking his head, he entered the building with the spluttering neon ‘vacancy’ sign. The first thing he noted was the receptionist almost falling asleep on their leaned fist. The second thing he noted was familiar someone leaning against the wall, hood up but mouth cover missing, sporting a very familiar grin.

“I did mention that you were paying.” The man said.

He did. V1-ktor gruffly stuck his wrist comm to pay for the room, was given a key card (who even used key cards when there were optic scanners and fingerprinting now?), then he was leading the stranger to one of the many vacant rooms. It was passable enough – pressed sheets, working lights, clean walls. No TV, but no weird stains on the carpet either, which means the cleaners were very dedicated to their jobs or they mastered the art of moving furniture over them, like V1-ktor. The only thing that stood out for him was the single queen bed. At this point, he wasn’t sure if the universe was trying to tell him something or if it was just bad luck.

He took off his helmet, tossing the cumbersome thing onto the desk pushed against the wall, along with his grenades (which were shown more care than the helmet), and sat down on the bed. The man remained hovering by the door, face carefully blank.

“So how exactly are we doing this?” The stranger asked.

V1-ktor tipped his head to his discarded helmet. “I like to think we’re both civilised. I ask something of you, you ask something of me. Sound fair?”

A slight frown, then nodding. V1-ktor continued.

“I’ll go first. Weapons, for starters.”

Eyes narrowed in suspicion, but the stranger wordlessly unslung his rifle and placed it carefully placed it on the table. It was followed by a pistol, also placed with carefulness.

“All of them.” V1-ktor said.

Glowing eyes rolled, but flash grenades were too deposited.

“I said all of them.”

The stranger sighed heavily, before bending down to his boots and slipping out a knife from each one (and that should not be more erotic than it looked). He straightened, dropping them onto the table, then sent a pointed look V1-ktor’s way.

V1-ktor raised his eyebrows.

With a groan, the sniper produced a grappling hook and rope from the depths of his cloak. “You gonna frisk me while you’re at it?” He said grumpily.

“If you’re offering.” V1-ktor answered with a grin. “My turn again-”

“Wait, that wasn’t a question!”

“It sounded like one to me.”

The sniper gritted his teeth. “Fine. I’ll let you have that one.”

V1-ktor shouldn’t be shouldn’t be feeling a flush of victory over such a small thing, but he did. “When you were at the bar, did you know that I was your bounty?”

“…no. I was looking for information and killing time before going to that warehouse. Now, aren’t you forgetting something?”

V1-ktor blinked. The man pointed to his chest. “You’re still wearing your armour. Afraid of something still?”

…Oh. V1-ktor was too embarrassed to tell the truth; he had simply forgotten about it. At this point of his career, it felt like a second skin to him. He began activating the release hatches. His armour hissed, unbuckling and becoming loose, allowing V1-ktor to pull each piece away. Arms, shins, pads on his knees and shoulders, they he laid each one onto the floor until he was only in his maroon zero suit. Despite being covered from neck to ankle, he felt eyes rove over him appreciatively, meeting V1-ktor’s eyes fearlessly. For some reason, V1-ktor felt the need to both stretch out and cover himself in armour again. “I already asked about your employer,” He said, to mask his embarrassment. “And got a no.”

The sniper hummed in agreement.

“And I can’t ask about the job either.”

“You can try, but you won’t get a straight answer.”

V1-ktor suppressed a laugh. “…can I ask you what your name is, at least?”

There was a long pause, before, “Strix. And yours?”

“Vik. That counts by the way.”

“I know.” The man – Strix – let out a slight smirk. “Got any more questions?”

“…why did you come here anyway?”

“Because of the threat of death?” Strix answered, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. It didn’t sit right with V1-ktor however.

“A normal man would’ve not turned up at all, try and set up an ambush or something. I can’t see anything.”

“So far.” Strix interjected. V1-ktor continued.

“Why’re you here?”

“Why?” Strix gave a long, measured look, and V1-ktor got the distinct impression that he wasn’t the one in control anymore, but instead, the prey pinned by an owl’s watch. He strode over to V1-ktor in slow, purposeful strides. While he had a good inch or two when they were both standing, Strix seemed overwhelmingly tall when he was leaning over V1-ktor like this. V1-ktor met his gaze stubbornly, despite his heart beating loud in his ears. “I’m here because I’m amused by the fact that you still keep trying to settle this like a gentleman. I’ll admit, that’s adorable but-”

“You think it’s adorable?”

That stopped Strix in his tangent, and for a moment, there was genuine surprise his face before it went back to careful neutrality. “I want to see how this plays out. I also distinctly recall that you had ‘other methods’ of getting the answers out of me. And I’m not an easy man to sway.”

He got that smile again, the one that made V1-ktor want to wipe it off, one way or another.

(Damn it, he can already imagine the exasperated faces of his squad, especially Nova's, which would be coupled by her saying 'I told you so')

"Well, I did promise to frisk you." V1-ktor said. His hands skimmed over Strix's forearms, over his arm braces, before tugging at his hands. Strix let himself be pulled down, placing his knee either side on either side of V1-ktor and seating himself on V1-ktor's thighs. V1-ktor leaned in closer to brush his lips against the raised scars around Strix’s own, before finally kissing Strix’s mouth. It was like electric friction, especially when he tilted his head and oh damn, that was good. His hands had moved to Strix's hips, and that was even better, and he squeezed encouragingly before moving up his sides, feeling out the straps of Strix’s body armour. “Can’t do that while this is still on.” He breathed out.

V1-ktor felt a smirk on his lips, then there were fingers where V1-ktor’s hands were, deftly pulling at the buckles until the armour pieces fell gracelessly to the floor, without the care V1-ktor had shown to his own. They were soon followed by his cape, pooling like liquid darkness at V1-ktor’s feet. With those out of the way, V1-ktor was free to palm Strix’s back, feeling out the rise and dips of his spine, before his hands rose to the back of Strix’s neck.

A full-bodied shudder ran down Strix, head to toe, and then he placed a hand on V1-ktor’s chest and pushed it downwards. V1-ktor fell back onto his elbows, leaving room for Strix to crawl over him. He then proceeded to do the sexiest striptease V1-ktor had ever seen with only his shirt, pulling it off with crossed arms. Very suddenly, V1-ktor had the weirdest inversion of déjà vu, where they were back in that sniper nest and beating each other senseless, except it was Strix who was gazing down at him.

His braid fell freely over his shoulder, drawing V1-ktor’s eyes to it, and then he was gazing at the various scars over the planes of Strix’s body. There was a starburst one, one that ran ragged, another with the line and dots from a surgeon’s needle and thread. They looked like interesting stories, if V1-ktor was inclined to ask (and he had already lost track whose turn it was to ask questions now). Too bad he was distracted by Strix’s hands moving over his chest and under his chin, where the zipper lay against his throat, and he tugged at it. Unfortunately, zero suits were made to withstand the limits of space travel and combat, and that included increasingly frustrated movements made by the man currently sitting on V1-ktor’s lap. A chuckle rose out of V1-ktor’s throat.

“Stop laughing and help me get this thing off before I decide to cut it off myself.” Strix said, punctuating it with another vicious tug.

The image of Strix using one of the knives to slice the suit into ribbons and ripping off the ruined cloth flashed in V1-ktor’s mind. His breath got caught in his throat. If it didn’t cost approximately a year of his salary, V1-ktor would’ve been tempted to let Strix do it. Still, he unhooked the zip and pulled it down, all too aware of Strix’s appraisal with every inch of skin revealed. Strix let out a low whistle when the zipper reached the navel and V1-ktor - to his immortal mortification - flushed. With minimal prodding (but perhaps, a tad harder than necessary), Strix climbed off V1-ktor, letting him peel off the rest of the suit, along with his boxers, throwing them both somewhere to the side (because he’s not the type of guy to go commando with a _air-tight_ suit, unlike his colleague L-exo, and it’s getting weird thinking about him right now so yeah, V1-ktor’s going to put a stop to that train of thought).

He scooted back until his back hit the headboard of the bed, and when he settled, Strix crawled back over him sans pants. V1-ktor glanced downwards. Apparently sans underwear too (or maybe _he_ was the type to go commando too). Now that there wasn’t any layer of clothing on either of them, V1-ktor could feel every movement and every brush of skin as Strix leaned over and muttered in his ear, “Got any lube?”

V1-ktor nodded. “Suit pocket, on the left side.” Strix groaned in frustration, and went in the direction where the suit was, returning in record time with lube in hand.  V1-ktor reached for it, but Strix had already popped open the cap with a thumb and squeezed the substance over his fingers. Then, to V1-ktor’s eternal surprise, Strix reached backwards to himself instead.

“Are you sure-?” V1-ktor managed to ask.

“Positive.” Strix grunted, a small wince crossing his face. Most likely from the insertion and the cold lube, V1-ktor thought, because nobody liked the sensation of sticking anything cold there. He tried to distract Strix with another kiss, thumbing his cheekbones and scars. They stayed a few minutes like that, with V1-ktor trailing kisses over wherever he could reach – lips, cheeks, even a few cheeky ones on Strix’s throat – before Strix stopped and rest his still-wet hand on V1-ktor’s thigh.

“Ready.” He said. He poured more lube over his hand, then stroked V1-ktor’s cock, who took a sharp breath at the cold sensation. Yup. Universal experience.

“You’re an asshole.” V1-ktor glared at Strix, despite how good Strix’s fingers felt on his overheated skin. Strix had the nerve to look back in the eye and smirk. The lube warmed up though, and soon enough, V1-ktor was thrusting shallowly into Strix’s palm with a groan. Then Strix shifted himself over V1-ktor, hands on V1-ktor’s shoulders to keep himself steady, and he slowly lowered himself.

“Damn…” V1-ktor hissed through clenched teeth, a counter to Strix’s almost silent moan. Strix stopped when he was fully hilted, breathing slowly. V1-ktor was too busy trying not to thrust too soon into the tightness. Besides, by the nails digging into his shoulders, it was a good call.

Then Strix lifted himself up, and down, and damn, _damn._ There was something almost methodical in the way he moved. V1-ktor wanted to thrust up, wanted to put his hands on those scarred hips and help somehow, anyhow, but Strix wrenched V1-ktor’s face to his in a savage kiss, not breaking his rhythm all the while. All V1-ktor could do was groan into Strix’s lips and be used by him, like all that mattered was Strix’s pleasure. As weird as it sounded, the thought made him tip his head back and offer his neck, like a trade, if he was still going down the theme of the night. A piece of himself, piece of Strix, that sort of shit.

He felt a bite at the junction of his shoulder, not hard enough to leave a bruise (as hot as it sounded) but enough that it sent a bolt of pure pleasure through him. V1-ktor groaned, finally bucking up and came. At the same time, Strix clenched around him, burying his face into V1-ktor’s shoulder with a quiet shudder. They both stayed like that for a few moments, chests heaving and sweat drying, before Strix pulled himself off, shuddering again as V1-ktor’s softening cock slipped out of him, and climbed off him, much to V1-ktor’s secret disappointment. He went back to where he had dropped his cloak and rummaged around in it, before pulling out a familiar metal mask. V1-ktor’s eyebrows rose. “Wait, that’s not for decoration?” V1-ktor asked.

“For my lungs.” Strix explained, settling over his mouth and walking back to bed. He laid next to V1-ktor, who had his back slack against the wall. “Can go without it for a while, but not all the time.”  

“Ah.” V1-ktor answered, partially out of surprise, and partially out of the sight Strix presented. He looked satisfied and well-fucked, his eyes crinkling from the smile hidden by the mask, and strands falling free from his braid. He pulled it free from the hair tie, and started braiding it with well-practiced motions. The sudden intimacy (and seeing just how long Strix’s hair could get) had V1-ktor gulping. If Strix had no-where immediate to be, then neither did he, V1-ktor reasoned, and he gathered the last of his energy to slip an arm around Strix’s waist. When Strix didn’t protest, V1-ktor tilted his head back for a light doze.

Or he would have, if the wrist comms had not beeped from across the room. V1-ktor groaned. Strix looked entirely too comfortable being half-seated on V1-ktor, and V1-ktor loathed to move his leaden-heavy limbs, but it just started ringing again even after being sent to voicemail. He reluctantly untangled himself from Strix, padding over to the offensive device (and still aware of Strix still on the bed, eyes on his ass), and answered it. “Someone better have died.” He said into the comms grumpily.

 _“Actually,_ ” Nova’s voice sounded breathless and strained, like she had been wrestling a terrormorph. _“Yeah. Someone did.”_

“…what?”

_“Not L-exo! But we got a helluva story for you…”_

**Author's Note:**

> I-  
> I have no excuse. 
> 
> Also as I was writing this I had some editorial notes for my two beta readers to make their lives easier every time I revised it. Here are some of which were my favourites:  
> \- Added some sentences to emphasis Strix’s asshole-ery for preparing V1-ktor’s dick with cold lube.  
> \- Added some more description in the beginning about the limitations of the group’s xenophilia.  
> \- Changed the names and wording involving genitals. Author may or may have not been re-reading 2000’s ‘how to write smut 101’ masterlists.  
> \- Re-added selected words for genitals after realising that this is a fanfic, not an erotica written by a bored woman in their late forties trapped in a loveless marriage.
> 
>  
> 
> Thanks for putting up with my nonsense, pls kudos or comment if you enjoyed this nonsense.


End file.
